


the_fox333's Burgerpants/Reader 30

by the_fox333



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Burgerpants has a real name, Burgerpants is a graffiti artist, Fluff, Gender-neutral Reader, No Smut, Other, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-22
Updated: 2016-08-22
Packaged: 2018-08-10 07:40:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7835974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_fox333/pseuds/the_fox333
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thanks to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/users/Agraulis_vanillae/pseuds/Agraulis_vanillae">Agraulis_vanillae</a> and <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/users/Kyre/pseuds/Kyre">Kyre</a>, I now love Burgerpants/Reader and Burgerpants as a graffiti artist, and so decided to do this. If you want to cheat and look at the prompts I'm using, they can be found in table 30-A at <a href="http://100-prompts.livejournal.com/82878.html">100-prompts.livejournal.com/82878</a>.</p><p>This isn't gonna update as often as I wish it would; inspiration is hard. Leave kudos if you want to see more, but don't expect anything close to regular updates.</p><p>Rated T for future romantic fluff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Evidence

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [GraffitiTale](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7519997) by [Agraulis_vanillae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Agraulis_vanillae/pseuds/Agraulis_vanillae). 
  * Inspired by [Window To Your Soul](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7519684) by [Kyre](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kyre/pseuds/Kyre). 



The black-clad figure popped the top off a can of spray paint and shook it up, slashing a small test line along the huge concrete pillar he stood before. He'd cover it up soon enough. Satisfied with the shade, he began to methodically layer it onto the blank wall, forming a background of dark blue.

Several cans later, it was done. He pulled out his next color, black, and made a swooping arc as far as he could reach. More arcs followed, some high, some low, but all dark colors. Like most of his works, this would be abstract. Even he wasn't sure what he intended it to mean.

Carefully, he pulled out two stencils to place the finishing touches: a light green handprint in the center, and his signature in maroon in the bottom right. It was a complicated thing, his signature; he used the stencil to save time, allowing the fact he had cut it by hand to make up for what he would otherwise consider cheating.

Stepping away, he surveyed his work: the handprint would catch a prospective viewer's eye, guiding them to the arcs radiating outward from it like ripples in a sea of blue. He smiled thinly behind his breathing mask and rolled his eyes; he wasn't usually this poetic.

Without warning, a gravelly crunch alerted him to someone's presence. He turned around slowly, squinting into the dark at his observer. He wore the suit to protect his fur, not his identity, but it sure came in handy for that.

"Who are you?" the person called. "I don't want any trouble. Just take off your mask."

Sighing, he pulled his mask and goggles off, revealing his feline face. "I don't use my real name," he responds, "but most people call me Burgerpants."

~ ~ ~

"Burgerpants?" you ask, frowning. "Not a very good name, if you ask me."

He grimaces. "I agree, but that's what you get for wasting your life at-" his voice takes on a mocking tone- "'The Underground's finest fast food establishment (TM)'." Looking back at you, he shifts to one leg and frowns at you. "So who are you to tell me to take off my mask and give me your name? You're no cop, so why are you here in the middle of the night? It's dangerous out here in the dark."

"I was on my way to pick up some groceries when I saw you," you tell him. "I figured I'd ask you what you were painting, so... What are you painting?"

"Oh, this?" he says, nodding to the wall behind him. "It's just art. It's a hobby. It doesn't have a title yet, but I was thinking of "Effect". Any input?"

"Not really," you comment. "Why Effect, anyway?"

He shrugs, then bends down to pick up his bag of spent paint cans. "Well, I really ought to be going," he tells you. "I probably won't see you again, so- g'bye, I guess."

"Wait!" you exclaim, fishing out a piece of paper from your pocket. You're not sure why- maybe it's the time of night- but you scribble your phone number and hand it to him. He raises an eyebrow.

"And what am I supposed to do with this?" he asks sarcastically.

"Call it," you answer instantly. On a whim, you add, "and maybe I won't turn you in for graffiti."

He chuckles, slipping the paper into his pocket. "Threatening me for a date, huh? There's probably a law against that, but I can humor you. How's 11 tomorrow at New Grillby's?"

"I'm open," you tell him. "See you there." He flashes a two-finger salute and walks off, whistling a song that sounds a lot like Blank Space. A date? Is that what this is? Well, you'll at least make it a good one, even if it's destined to be a single-shot affair.


	2. I'm here

You glance down at your watch nervously, staring intently at the passing crowd for any sign of Burgerpants. 11 is only five minutes away, and you've been waiting on the edge of your seat for the past half hour. You're dressed appropriately, you think; not too casual, but also not too formal. You fidget nervously, time seeming to slow down as you wait for the hour hand to reach the golden number.

Just as the nearby church bell finishes chiming 11, the door swings open, and in steps Burgerpants. He's wearing dark jeans and a plain blue t-shirt, which makes you feel a little overdressed. He scans the booths passively, grinning when he finally sees you. Sitting down across the table, he flags down Grillby, who's walking around refilling drinks.

"I'll have a milkshake," he nods, turning to you. You silently hold up two fingers, and he appends, "Two milkshakes." Grillby nods and walks off, and you sit nervously, at a loss for conversation topics.

"So," he begins, "what do you think of Mettaton?"

You raise an eyebrow. "Do you start all dates this way?"

"I would, if I went on any," he smiles thinly.

"He's okay," you admit. "I mean, his shows can be kinda boring, and his product lines are a little off at times, but I'm okay with him. What about you?"

Burgerpants' face darkens. "I hate him," he announces bluntly. "He's all smiles and glitter on the surface, but he has zero real empathy. The second he's off-camera, it's 'Burgerpants, move this box', 'Burgerpants, put up these decorations', 'Burgerpants, you have to be a tree in my next play'. The guy's evil, I swear."

You're somewhat taken aback by the sudden outpouring of emotion. "I'm sorry," you say softly, placing a hand on his paw. He sighs and looks down.

"Sorry about that," he mutters. "I just haven't been able to say that- well, ever. I needed to vent to someone." He looks up at you, and a tight smile appears on his face. "That really helped, actually," he admits. "Thanks."

Grillby arrives with the milkshakes, and he thanks him quickly, taking both and handing one to you. You slurp silently for a moment before asking, "So, uh... What's your favorite color?"

"Blue," he answers instantly. "It's like the opposite of red, but without the connection of being the opposite." He frowns. "Does that make sense?"

"Kinda, yeah," you tell him. "What's wrong with red?"

"It's the color of the damned uniform I had to wear every single day since I started my job," he grimaces. "Bad memories."

"Oh," you mumble, not sure what to say. "Out of curiosity, what's your current job? You left your old one, right?"

"Of course I did. I'm no idiot. I do art commissions now. I've painted a few places around here, like that bird café a few blocks down. You?"

"Unemployed," you admit. "I worked at a restaurant a while ago just to bring in some extra cash, but it didn't really go anywhere." Thinking about it, you add, "Kinda like you, actually."

"Funny how that works," he muses, taking a sip of his milkshake. The two of you sit there quietly until he looks down at his watch.

"Dammit! I gotta go!" he exclaims, jumping up. At the last second, he pulls out a twenty and a business card, handing the latter to you and setting the first on the table. "On me," he announces, breezing out the door and hurrying into the crowd. You sit there for another minute before finally calling Grillby over and paying with Burgerpants' money, leaving a tip from your own wallet.

_An interesting date, to be sure,_ you think to yourself, wondering if he intended to ask for another one- and wondering what you'd say.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The "bird café" is homage to GraffitiTale, one of my inspirations. If you haven't read it yet, you totally should.


	3. Funeral

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three chapters in one night? Even if they are short, I'm on fire (unlike Dan [sorry, I had to]).

The assembled crowd stands silently on the grass as Asgore, former king of the monsters and now groundskeeper at a monster school, reads the eulogy for Gerson, a monster who passed away only a few days after reaching the surface. You stand near the back of the crowd, wanting to hear but not to be noticed. You're one of very few humans in attendance, and you came mostly to show your support for monsters, who are unfortunately still the subject of much discrimination. Still, you'd rather nobody really notice you and start wondering anything. It's an irrational fear and you know it, but it doesn't stop you feeling safer at the edges.

Asgore concludes his reading, and the assembled crowd stands back as the box containing Gerson's dust is carried out solemnly on it's way to Mount Ebott. As everyone files out, you accidentally bump into someone's shoulder. Turning to apologize, you find yourself face to face with a familiar feline.

"Fancy seeing you here," Burgerpants grins. "Fortunate, too; now I don't have to call. Wanna go to Grillby's again?"

"Sure," you agree. "Not like I have anything else to do today." Burgerpants places his paw in your hand and guides you unnecessarily through the dwindling crowd.

Once at Grillby's, the two of you pick out a booth near the window and order lunch. Burgerpants has a hot dog, and you order a cheeseburger. It's rather late for lunch, so the food arrives in no time. As the two of you dig in, you ask Burgerpants, "How well did you know Gerson?"

"As well as anyone born after the war," he mumbles through a bite of hot dog. Swallowing, he continues, "I grew up with his name as synonymous as King Asgore's with fighting. He was an amazing warrior from what they say. Could beat back a dozen humans with nothing but a tree branch, as the stories go. You can't believe all if it, but there's truth behind those exaggerations." He takes another bite and chews before finishing, "I never really knew him, per se, but he was friendly whenever I stopped by his shop on my way to Snowdin." He finished half the hot dot before asking, "Why were you there? I'm betting you didn't know him before the barrier came down, and there wasn't much time after."

"Support, mostly," you shrug. "I figured it wouldn't hurt to show everyone that one more human was with the monsters."

"A noble cause," Burgerpants nods, "but you didn't do a very good job of showing everyone anything, way in the back there."

You blush lightly, pink dusting your cheeks. "You noticed?" you ask, almost incredulous. Burgerpants only smiles and finishes his hot dog.

"Well, this was nice," he says, standing and extending you a paw to help you up, his second unnecessary action of the day. You accept it nonetheless, walking to the door hand-in-paw until you part ways at the sidewalk. As you walk back home, you do a mental double take. You were- holding hands? And you both allowed it? You're not sure what to make of this, but you think you might like it. Apparently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do I write Burgerpants too confident? Too bad for you; deal with it. I prefer it this way, and maybe I'll even try to explain it or something. No promises.


	4. Puppy Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually cannot stop right now. I'm gonna get no sleep tonight, and it's gonna be so worth it.

You've spent a lot of time since your second date thinking about Burgerpants. He seems pretty cool, and you definitely feel something towards him, but is it friendship? Puppy love? Kitty love? Actual romantic feelings? You still have no idea. You're lying on your bed thinking about it when your phone buzzes.

"Speak of the devil," you murmur, opening Burgerpants' text.

_You open 2nite?_

_yea_ , you reply. _Wanna go 2 this sushi bar I know? Its really good._

 _Fish sounds good rn_ , comes the reply. _7?_

 _sure. C u there!_ Sending him the address, you roll onto your back, staring at the ceiling.

Did you really just organize a third date? In only five days? What is your life right now.

Nevertheless, when 7 o'clock rolls around, there you both are, arriving at the sushi bar and greeting each other with smiles. You take two adjacent seats and place your orders. You get a plate of squid maki, and Burgerpants one of salmon sashimi. Hardly surprising, considering he's a cat. Is that racist? Maybe. You decide not to mention it, just in case.

"So how's your week been?" Burgerpants asks, fumbling the chopsticks in his paws and finally just stabbing a piece of sashimi.

"Pretty good," comes your automatic reply. "Well, maybe more than that. I don't know."

"Don't know?" he asks with mock incredulity. "Why might that be?"

"Well, I'm still thinking about it," you admit to him. "It's just- we've been going on all these dates, and it's all happening so fast, I need time to work out my feelings."

As you say this, something thoroughly unexpected happens. Burgerpants' confidence seems to fall away, and his face shows it. "Shit," he curses. "I knew I was taking this too fast, but you seemed fine with it, and I got overexcited, and I didn't want to screw anything up and now I did anyway-" He cuts off mid-sentence, lightly whacking his head on the counter. "I'm such an idiot," he mutters. "I never should have agreed to this. Listen to your own advice, Burgerpants. Never get involved with attractive people." He cuts off entirely, quaking slightly with- are those really tears?

"Burgerpants, wait," you try to calm him. He snaps his head up, tears matting his fur.

"Don't call me Burgerpants!" he yells at you. "My name is Emmett! Don't ever use that stupid nickname again!" The fire drains out of him, and he slumps back down. "Oh god, now I just made it worse," he whispers to himself.

"Emmett, it's okay," you try again. "I'm fine with this, I really am. I'd tell you if I wasn't, I promise. Just- don't cry. Please don't cry." You place an arm around his shoulders, and he lifts his head, sniffing and wiping his eyes. "Are you all right?" Oh, boy. Feelings are stirring.

Burgerpants sniffs again and looks up at you. "You- you're really still okay with me?" he asks, voice wavering. "Even after I rush you, even after I yell at you, you don't think I'm stupid?"

"Of course not!" you gush. "You're not stupid at all! You're smart and cute and a great artist and I really like you!" Woah. Did you actually just say all that. Where did that come from. It would've been nice to know you thought all this a while ago.

Burgerpants is similarly floored. "I- you- but- I-" he stammers. "You- you do? You're not just lying to make me feel better?"

"Of course not!" you reply instantly, not sure you're in control of your speech. "Why would I lie to you? I'm not trying to take advantage of you or anything! I really do think so!"

"F-for real?"

"Yes!" you huff impatiently. "Can you not just accept it!? Do I have to make this any more clear? I- Love- You!"

The entire restaurant is silent, helped by the fact that you're the only patrons. "You- You what?" Burgerpants asks quietly.

Jesus Christ, did you actually just say you love him? This guy you literally met less than a week ago, and you're already in love? The more you think about it, the more sure you are. Somehow, in five days, you've developed an infatuation with this feline monster that extends far beyond curiosity or even puppy love. What in the name of everything holy has happened to your life.

"I- I-" Burgerpants is speechless. "You- love me?"

"So it would seem," you grin sheepishly. "So- my turn to pick up the bill?"

Burgerpants is silent for another moment, and then a smile creeps across his face. "If you want," he nods, straightening up and wiping the last of the tears out of his fur. "What would you say to hanging out at my place tomorrow? It's not much, but..."

"I'd love it," you reply earnestly. "We can work out details later, but I should be getting back home soon. I have some chores I've been putting off that should probably be done before it's too late."

You pay, and the two of you walk to the door together, Burgerpants looking happier than you've ever seen him. Just before he walks out to his car, you grab his paw and spin him around. "Good night," you smile, and plant a light kiss on his lips. Giddy with excitement and high on adrenaline, you hop down the steps and into your car, watching Burgerpants drift in an elated daze to his own before driving off. Whatever your previous reservations, tonight was worth every second.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Emmett is my personal headcanon name for Burgerpants. Some people prefer to gloss over the topic of his real name, but not me.


End file.
